Le Garçon de SaintMaur
by Isabella C Robertson
Summary: Severus Snape never realised how hard it would be reuniting himself with his grieving son 12 years later, but things get even harder when Nathaniel meets Hermione Granger.
1. Chapter 1

**Le Garcon de Saint-Maur**

**by**

**Isabella C Robertson**

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><p><em>Disclaimer: Anything Harry Potter related belongs to J.K Rowling.<em>

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><p><strong>Chapter One: Monsieur Snape<strong>

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><p><em>Saint-Maur-des-Fosses, January 6th<strong>, <strong>1997_

_Monsieur Snape, _

_I regret to inform you that your previous wife, Nathalie Duval passed away last Thursday (2nd). She had been suffering with pneumonia for some time and despite all medical assistance, was unable to make a full recovery. Her condition steadily worsened at the end of December and she died peacefully in her home. Funeral arrangements have already taken place._

_Whilst none of us here expect you to take time from your duties to visit, our main concern is your son, Nathaniel Duval-Snape. As you are his remaining sole guardian, we have filed all legal documents to have your son transported to you immediately from Paris. His will be arriving at Glasgow airport tomorrow afternoon at 2pm approximately. _

_Find enclosed legal documents. _

_Regards,_

_Pierre Roués-Sue, Child Protection Chief, Sector 45, France._

Folding the letter between shaking fingers, he allowed a brief moment of grievance for Nathalie Duval, then pocketed the letter. Pushing his meal to one side, he excused himself from the staff table and swept swiftly between the students, escaping into the dungeons. As he moved his thoughts whirled insanely in his mind. A million and one questions seemed to form, flashing briefly, but to quick to allow him the chance to answer a single one.

She was dead? And Nathaniel? He was coming where? Here? No. No that couldn't be, not after all this time. He wouldn't approve. She wouldn't approve. Absolutely not.

He turned left and paced down Gladden's Corridor, the heels of his shoes clicked rhythmically against the cobble floor. He concentrated for a moment on the sound and he tried to remember. He tried to remember her smell, her smile, her eyes, anything that would help him latch to a memory. Nothing prevailed and as he reached his office, he felt his heart beat out of time. A deep sigh rattled his chest.

"_You're an incompetent loser!" _she had spat at him. He remembered that much, their final departing. Those words stung him harshly. He now realised just how those words had effected him, considering he had carried them with him these past eleven years.

Lighting a lamp, he sat at his desk, dropping his head into his palms. He rubbed his temples soothingly, considering every option that he had. Had the child no other family? No uncle, aunt, friend, grand-parent? Merlin knows his own mother would never allow it. Severus snorted at the thought of Eileen Snape nee Prince taking his son in, she wouldn't allow it. Her days were spent withering away in a chair, staring out the window and regretting her entire life. She had never moved on, though Severus had and in time, had cut all contact with her. For the best, he reminded himself each time a simper of doubt plagued his mind.

From beneath his desk, he retrieved a bottle of brandy and a snifter that he stored there for any life crisis that attacked him. He could smell the mulled fruit before the clear liquid even touched the base of the snifter. The scent drifted beautifully, a sweet reminder of life's pleasure, the vapour swirling around his nose in an almost teasing fashion. He sniffed lightly and could almost feel the buzz of activity in his mind decrease. Lifting the glass to his lips, he tipped it slightly, anticipating the flow of sweet tonic and allowed the tiniest of sips pass between his teeth. He breathed a sigh of relief. Kirschwasser. A present from a friend in Germany whom he'd done a favour for nearly 5 years ago. The man had taste, he admitted.

As the kirsch warmed his stomach he leaned into the chair, closing his eyes and trying to recall his child. He remembered him as a baby, he had dark hair, whether it had lightened to his mothers brown, he didn't know. He hadn't been around long enough to see. His mind refused to allow him access the memories, every image he had could have been any child, they all looked the same at that age, did they not? He wasn't a fantastic father, he knew that and he didn't need to be reminded. Did he feel guilty for not being there? If he were to honestly admit this, he would say no. He couldn't remember Nathaniel, he had brief memories of a little boy at the age of three sitting at a table, picking a flower, demanding sweets. But that could have been any child, perhaps his mind had created these memories to compensate for his feelings of guilt? He dismissed the thought. Rubbish!

"A subtle hint of cherry and a slight bitter almond essence. Marvellous brew, I do say."

Severus opened his eyes warily. His mind felt hazy again. He stared at the chair in front of him where Professor Dumbledore sat, an empty glass in hand and his tongue licking the vapour from his lips. He bore his usual overly friendly smile and head ache rendering cheeriness. Severus sighed.

""Grace yourself with another, won't you?" he suggested, moving the bottle closer.

"I shan't, not tonight. I have many letters of anger to reply to and I fear a slight merry mind would call for drastic sarcasm on my behalf. No, no, best leave this beauty for another night."

"I shall set aside a glass for you then. How may I help you headmaster? Have you got wind of news?"

Dumbledore shook his head slowly, entwining his fingers on his lap. "Unfortunately, the only news I have is that of the students personal lives and to be honest, even I find it far to mushy to retell. It does not marvel to be all seeing at times." he smiled.

Severus grunted at him. He could see the usual twinkle forming, which only meant he was scheming. He watched as Dumbledore began flexing his fingers, then entwining them, then squeezing them, then flexed them again, then entwined them and squeezed them and then pop.

"About time too," he said lightly, wiggling the knuckle he had cracked, "Blasted thing has been giving me trouble all morning. Did you know that it's almost impossible to fold socks without the use of all fingers? Thank Merlin for the assistance of Madam Pomfrey, I had to run straight to her with that crisis."

"I'm sure it was turmoil for you." Severus drawled, tapping his foot lightly against the floor. He could see no future end in sight for this conversation. He wondered what Professor Trelawney would have to say on the matter, he was confident that her prediction would be nothing but dismal.

"I sense urgency on your behalf, Severus." Dumbledore said, resting an elbow against the desk. "I'll get to my reason for being here. You left dinner rather urgently, I must say unusual for you. It was your favourite, was it not? Spaghetti bolognas?"

Severus cringed inwardly. He suddenly felt like a child, but he wasn't entirely sure why. He wished he could lie about the situation, pretend that it was all one big mix up and that this Nathalie Duval was insane and he had no idea who she was. While it sounded tempting, and he was sure he could pull it off, he just couldn't.

"I received a letter of importance." he began. "From a Mr Pierre Roués-Sue, in France. He is chief of child protection over there. It seems that my previous wife, Nathalie Duval has passed on recently and they were writing in regards to Nathaniel, my son."

"Oh." Dumbledore chimed, crossing his legs and leaning foreword. "My deepest sympathies of course, Severus, for you and Nathaniel."

He waved a hand and shook his head. "Don't. I knew neither of them well enough to feel grief. It sounds harsh, I know, but-"

"It is understandable. And what is to become of Nathaniel?"

"Well that's the issue at hand Headmaster. Apparently, he has no other living relative, bar myself, with whom he can reconcile. I was given no choice in the matter. These are the papers." he pulled the letter and documents from his pocket and slid them to Dumbledore.

He picked them up and read quietly for a moment, then dropped then and entwined his fingers once more.

"You haven't signed them yet." he commented.

"I know."

"Why is this?"

Severus stared at him. He wasn't sure if Dumbledore was suggesting something, or using reverse psychology in an effort to make him feel emotion. You never really could tell when it came to Albus Dumbledore, you always just had to guess and wing on that until he told you what he was up to.

"It has been 12 years, Headmaster, since I last met Nathanial face to face. That is an entire life time for a boy his age. I know nothing of him, I have never corresponded with him other than the occasional birthday card and even at that, he never replied and never acknowledged my existence."

"Does a challenge of reunification deter you, Severus? If so, I must say I am disappointed. You are not one to step away from a challenge."

"It's not a challenge, Albus. It's a child. A teenager. Jesus, I don't even know what he looks like. He probably doesn't even remember me. Whose to say she ever told him that I existed? She probably didn't, fucking hell I wouldn't want me to exist in my life either if I were her."

Dumbledore creased his brow. "Why do you make these assumptions?" he asked, "Based on what fact can you be certain of anything?"

"I was a murderer Albus, a bloody murderer when I met her. She had no choice in the matter of marrying me and I the same. It was done for the sake of infesting the world with this manic idea of pure blood that I stupidly fell for. He wasn't planned out of love, Albus. He was a fucking experiment. A crazy experiment to see if pure blood could populate faster than mud… faster than normal humans." he sighed and picked up the legal documents. "If I sign this, I'm not promising him a life of joy with me. I'm not a parent, I never was."

Dumbledore nodded his head, whether or not he was agreeing, Severus couldn't tell. He allowed the headmaster a moment to gather his thoughts, waiting for a reply. Then it came. Far more surprising than he had expected.

"I think you are a very foolish man, if you do not sign your name to that custody paper. Parenthood is not an ingrained ability, Severus, that is what you must understand. Parenthood is a learned subject. You do not wake up and know what to do. You must wake up and try something and then learn when it does not work. In absolutely no way, can you turn Nathaniel away from your door. As proved, he has no other living relative except for you and I certainly have no objection with him residing at Hogwarts the remainder of the year, nor should you! I will leave you with your thoughts for now, it is your decision. You can either accept this challenge, or run from it. Either way , it will follow you to your grave, Severus. Of that I assure."

With that he stood and left the room slamming the door a little. Severus stared at where he had previously sat, mulling on his mentors words. Was he really foolish for not wanting to bring his son into a world he himself struggled with? It was no secret that he loathed most days. Even if he brought him to Hogwarts, where would he go? What would he do? This had to be a complete secret, he could not allow the student body get wind of any story. He poured himself another glass of Kirsch but could not bring himself to drink it. He just watched as the liquid rippled softly around the glass, leaving a few droplets dribble slowly down the sides.

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><p><strong>Alas, another Professor Snape fiction. If you take the time to read and review this story, then I appreciate it very much. Nothing encourages writing more than response. For those of you interested in my imagination, you can visit my profile where I have a work in progress and a one shot. I hope to see you in future chapters.<strong>

**Isabella C Robertson**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Je Suis Nathaniel**

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><p>He recognised him sooner than expected. Glasgow was particularly cold that Tuesday afternoon and having sought shelter against one of the radiators, his eyes came to rest on a tall boy wrapped in a brown duffel coat, hunched against a pillar. Beside him lay a single suitcase. Severus lurked for a moment. His mind urged him to move, to get the moment over with as quick as possible. After all, dwelling on the potentials of an awkward meeting normally made said encounter ten times worse.<p>

From what he could see, the boy looked little like him. Though he had the prominent facial structure that all male Snape's inherited, and the abnormal height, he seemed to look nothing other than a lost tourist in a great Scottish city. It was Winter, yes, but the necessity for large brown duffel coats and fur hats wasn't on high demand.

Taking a deep breath, he took control of his legs and walked towards the teenager. A tightening in his throat made him gulp sharply a few times, leaving him with a sticky and dry feeling in his throat. He paused a few feet away and looked.

"Duval?" he called.

The boy looked up, his thick brows were creased unattractively into a deep scorn.

"Oui?" he replied. His voice deep and thick with the French accent.

"I am Severus Snape," Severus said, eyeing his reaction, "I've come to bring you to Hogwarts."

The boy stared back. His cold face did not lighten, nor did his harsh expression falter. They stood silently for some while, both analysing the other, considering the next move, taking in every possible physical feature that they could in that short amount of time.

"Je suis Nathaniel." he said after a while, sticking a hand out towards Severus.

Severus eyes his hand, wrapped in black mittens and took it firmly, formally shaking it twice then dropping his arm to his side.

"If you'll follow me, we shall catch the train to Hogsmeade."

Severus turned on his heel and strode toward the exit. He trusted that the boy had chosen to follow and if not, then it was possibly all the best for him. Legally he had come for the boy, if he disappeared, then there wasn't much he could do on the matter. He still wasn't entirely sure what had made him put pen to paper the night before and sign his name to those custody documents. Was it the wisdom of Dumbledore? Although Severus usually thought little of the mans ravings, perhaps his words struck a heart string. Whatever it was, he only knew he was here and behind him, following like a dog, or at least he hoped, was his 16 year old French son.

On the train they were lucky enough to scout a compartment of their own. Though Severus generally did not engage in public transport conversation, he almost wished at this moment that another person existed alongside him, just to break the tense silence. He followed Nathaniel's eyes and stared out the window, briefly taking in the scenery as he began to think again.

Across from him and seated as closely to the back of his chair as possible, Nathaniel kept his gaze focused on the passing fields and farms. He dared not catch eye with the harsh looking man before him. His first reaction had been nothing more than cold, though he shook his hand, he reminded himself that it was just common curtsey. The man supposed to be his father played little part in his life growing up, therefore Nathaniel needed little attention from him at this stage. He sighed lightly, removing his mittens. The Scottish weather was much warmer in January than in France. As his mind wondered to the snow caped alps and the cobbled streets, white with thick snow blankets that crunched beneath his step, he felt a tiny stutter in his heart. It hurt to remind himself of the life he would never meet again. The friends he would one day love to see again, though realistically knew that they would have all moved on in life by that time. It hurt to think of his home, his bed, his garden, the corner shop and it ached, horribly throbbed to remember his mother. A week had short lived itself since her death, he remembered her beautiful snowy face, eyes closed and puckered red lips as she lay peacefully in her casket. She looked at peace, finally.

"The train journey is quite long, I would recommend you have something to eat, if you haven't already." Severus said. He had long removed his gaze from the window to stare at Nathaniel.

"I have eaten already." he replied, his gaze still focused on the view outside.

Severus watched him. He had hazel eyes, possibly inherited from his mother. Severus couldn't remember if she had hazel or blue eyes. To be honest, he could not remember much of her at all. At their time of separation, he had chosen to eliminate any reminder of her from his life. All pictures, documents, letters, belongings were destroyed. Nathaniel looked more like her, he decided, for he could see little of him in the boy. Despite his dark hair, an unusual shade of brown with uneven patches of dark grey, Severus saw very little characteristic. He wished for a moment to ask Nathanial if he carried pictures of his mother, just to remind him, but he decided against the action. Instead he sighed lightly, stretched his legs a little and settled himself into the seat for the remainder of the tense train ride.

When the train finally halted to a stop 3 hours later a little way from Hogwarts at a village called Argyll and Bute, the unlikely pair stepped onto the platform. A light mist had begun to form beneath their feet as the settling sun lowered in the sky.

"We shall need to apparate from here," Severus announced, "Shall I hold your suitcase?"

"I can manage." Nathaniel grunted, hoisting it closer to his body. "Where do I hold?"

Severus glanced at him from the corner of his eye then replied swiftly. "My shoulder."

Nathaniel rested a hand on his shoulder and waited for the annoying sensation that came with apparation. He had only ever apparated twice before, once with his mother as they travelled to and from school and the second with his mother's former lover, but that was only when he had gotten tired of looking after Nathaniel for the weekend and had swiftly brought him home again.

The sucking came without warning, as both were squashed and squeezed out of distortion. Nathaniel never knew whether or not it was possible to open your eyes while apparating, because his had always been squeezed shut at the mention of it. When he heard a pop, and felt his feet touch solid ground, he removed his hand and readjusted his coat on his shoulders. They stood at the end of a hill. Behind him lay a little village with thatched cottages and enchanted candles that glistened from between trees and bushes. Before him he saw nothing, but a vast array of scattered trees.

"This is Hogsmeade Village." Severus said, "The students from third year to seventh year come here on selected weekends."

Nathaniel ignored him, continuing to look up the hill. They started a steady walk, he dragged his suit case behind him, the wheel roaring loudly on the gravel path. Though through spite he would not have accepted help with his case, it annoyed him slightly that this Severus Snape had not even offered his assistance. He, after all, could not use magic outside of school until he was 17. His legs soon tired of the hill, his calf muscles burned and tensed and he was only delighted and overjoyed when a large fortress type wall and magnificent wrought iron gate came into view. It was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he knew this from the pictures he had seen in library books at his school.

"You will need to turn away." Severus said when they halted outside the gate.

"Why?" he asked, frowning at him.

"Privacy."

Nathaniel glowered and turned his back. He thought it stupid that he be requested to turn away from the gate, it was only a spell for opening it. It would be just as easy to climb over the wall, or fly over it.

Severus cast a few recognition spells and answered some security questions the gates fed to him mentally. They shuttered and creaked open, the metal chains clanging noisily together.

"Follow me." he said, stepping across the thresh hold and leading the way through the grounds. He hoped for his sake that no students were about the grounds on after dinner. As awful as it sounded, and he knew just how terrible it did sound, he wanted to keep the boy a secret. No one was to know of his true identity. He ushered up the steps and crossed the covered bridge into the clock tower courtyard, growling to himself all the while as the suitcase rattled noisily behind him. As he paced through the entrance doors, he took a sharp left behind a statue of Godric Gryffindor. He paused in the passageway, the light barely bring his features to view.

"Follow this passageway through until you reach a door. You will be met by the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Professor Albus Dumbledore. You are to treat him with utmost respect and authority and abide by any rule he sets you. Do you understand this?"

"Yes." he snapped, tightening his fist around the handle of the suitcase.

"Away with you then." With that, Severus rushed past him and slipped behind the statue again.

Nathaniel stood on the spot. The tunnel seemed endless and very little light poured through from the few beams above him. He squinted into the darkness. All to aware of the loneliness, his mind began to race. He had a paranoid feeling that fowl play was being catered for. Was that man really his father? How was he supposed to know, he had only ever met him briefly as a child. Other than that, no other form of contact existed between them. He ploughed slowly along the passageway, mentally begging his insufferable suitcase to quit the noise. Dragging the suitcase up a few steps, he scorned himself for not being clever enough to conceal his wand in his jacket pocket. What had he been thinking, not arming himself? Anyone could have come for him at that airport. It's not that he would have known the difference between danger or not. He could be walking to his death.

Another few minutes of walking, one flight of stairs and much self hatred later, a small wooden door presented itself in the distance. He rushed toward it, thrilled with the prospect of getting out of this tunnel. He wrapped his knuckles against the fine wooden door and waited. He heard a scrape and the shuffle of feet, then the handle turned with various clicks and clinks. Before him stood a tall, aging wizard, his beard trailed finely from his nostrils to his belt, where it looped graciously. Nathaniel stared up at him, barely aware of the awe inspired oval shape his mouth was beginning to form.

"Nathaniel Duval." the wizard smiled, "Welcome to Hogwarts. I am Professor Albus Dumbledore."

Nathaniel bowed his head. "Professor Dumbledore," he replied, "Thank you for the hospitality."

"Come, come," Dumbledore ushered, pointing him to a chair, "Be seated. I feel we have much to discuss. How was your journey?"

He settled himself into the chair, resting his case at his feet. "It was fine, thank you. I managed well."

"Are you pleased to meet your father?"

Before replying , he found himself answering his own question in his mind. _I don't have a father. _He wished he could reply with that statement, though he imagined it to be rude. After all, his mother had told him _'Never shoot the messenger.' _

"I am glad to have somewhere to go." he said.

Dumbledore nodded, leaning foreword his chair, and clasping his hands together. "I trust you are relieved of such hospitality. One can only imagine the thoughts you hold right now. I must inform you of my deepest sympathies."

"I appreciate it greatly. I am sure the change of scenery will help my mind."

"Ah yes! Your residence at Hogwarts," he chimed, as if it had just only dawned on him, "I am sure you are already familiar with some Hogwarts history?"

"Of course. We learned a lot about other Wizarding schools in France. We had a cultural awareness week, it was very interesting."

"Excellent. Then I assume you are aware of how students are placed in dormitories here at Hogwarts?"

"A hat." he replied, trying hard not to smirk. He never imagined in his life that a silly piece of fabric could be responsible for such importance as setting a social statues.

"The Sorting Hat, to be exact," Dumbledore said, standing up. He crossed the room to a gilded glass cabinet and from within, pulled out the withered looking hat. He placed it in front of Nathaniel, settling back into his seat and smiling. "It is not just any old hat, Mr Duval, I can assure you of that. Hogwarts holds much mystery, but little is mysterious about the marvels of this fabric."

"How does it work? This sorting experience."

"The same way in which any other hat works." he smiled.

Nathaniel cocked an eyebrow down at the brown, dusted old hat. It looked centuries old, as it apparently was, with some zigzag stitching around the middle. It did not look appealing, nor all knowing; it looked ugly and 'passé', as was anything tattered and dusty.

"I am not understanding, Professor Dumbledore." he said, looking up at him. "The way in which any other hat works? Surely… it is not as simple?"

"I'm afraid it is. You shall place this hat on your heard and you will then be sorted into your respective house." Dumbledore rose from his desk, walking around to lean against the front of it. He picked the hat up and placed it on Nathaniel's head, stepping back and he waited. The hat was silent for a moment, it sat limply on his head, the brown tip flopping over his eyes. He began to wonder if this so called extravagant hat was as reliable as was praised. After all, a silly old piece of material, ratted and worn should hardly hold such knowledge.

"Ratted and worn. Silly and unreliable." the hat drawled, it's brown tip stiffening into a point.

He froze, his back arching and his finger nails clutching the rims of his chair. Had he heard correct? Was he imagining?

"How coarse." the hat continued. "My oh my, such characteristic only belongs to one house of Hogwarts."

"And what house would that be?" Nathaniel whispered. He was unsure of how he was expected to react. If he spoke loud and bold, he feared Professor Dumbledore would declare him senile, talking to a ratty old hat after all.

"Am I still just a 'ratty old hat', Mr Snape?"

"My name is Nathaniel Duval. I do not answer to the name Snape." he replied, creasing his brow deeply into a frown.

"Hmm. Right. I see. I remember very clearly a Mr. Severus Snape - cunning and bright, so he was with a wicked thirst to prove himself. How like him you are in these ways. Loyal though, Mr Severus Snape was, undoubtedly still is as I have never made a mistake, extremely loyal and courageous. Such characteristics approved of Gryffindor house." the sorting had told him. "But you. You crave something more."

"I -"

"Gryffindor!"

"Where?" he asked, throwing his eyes up to view the rim of the hat.

Dumbledore took the hat from his head and placed it back in the cabinet. He resumed his seat before Nathaniel, the tiniest of smiles plagued his lips. Nathaniel followed his movements, his mind whirling with thoughts. Slytherin? Gryffindor? A thirst to prove himself?

"Congratulations, Mr Duval." Dumbledore said. "I'm positive Gryffindor has gained a fine companion."

"What is Gryffindor, Professor?" he asked, shaking his head and licking his lips, "I have never heard of these areas of Hogwarts."

"The Sorting Hat sorts our students at Hogwarts based on their strengths and weaknesses. It is a fool proof method, I imagine. Perhaps it sounds foolish to an outsider, but thus has been tradition for centuries. There are four respective houses at Hogwarts - Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Each house is home to many incredible students and exuberant personalities, all of which you will come to meet and greet during your stay." he explained, "You will sleep in the Gryffindor boy's dormitories, spend your free time in the Gryffindor common room, attend lessons with your year and eat at the Gryffindor table. Your house, shall become your home."

"Where do I find these Gryffindor's?"

"Your dormitory is located on the 7th floor, behind the portrait of the Fat Lady. For tonight, you shall reside with your father, in the dungeons. He has made a bedding area for you. Tomorrow you shall join your respective house for breakfast at 8am."

"How do I find the breakfast area?" Nathaniel asked. He was beginning to feel flustered with the new ways of Hogwarts. Despite never having set foot in this castle before, and having only been briefly informed of it's history at school, he felt an impairing sense of responsibility.

"Severus shall show you all of that. You may step through my fire, it will save you the chance of meeting Peeves who surely will assist in your already lost and confused feelings." Dumbledore said, pointing to a large fire place beside the gilded cabinet.

Nathaniel picked his suitcase up and hauled it to the fireplace. He nodded at Professor Dumbledore and bid him a 'Goodnight and thank you', before finding himself being pulled into the whirling vortex of the floo network. It was a short whirl, no longer than a few seconds, until he landed heavily on his feet inside Severus's fireplace. He stepped from the hearth, examining his surroundings.

It was a rectangle shaped low room, an underground quarter he assumed due to the darkness despite the presence of a lighting lamp in the far corner. The walls were rough looking and bumpy, as if they had been carved untidily from the walls of a cave. Four stone pillars stood against the four corners of the room, stretching from floor to ceiling. He turned to view the fireplace, it was nothing impressive, far from the standards of Professor Dumbledore's fire place. This one was simple; white marble, solid and no decoration on top, except for a tiny golden jar. A bookcase stood either side of the fire place, like two body guards; books of all shapes, thickness and size were stacked unevenly across the shelves. Behind him was a dark couch, flanked either side by small tables; two arm chairs faced each other and a low oak coffee table was the rooms centre piece. The décor was old fashioned, on one wall hung an empty portrait, opposite on the far end of the room, a snoozing wizard with untidy black hair and a well greased moustache sat against a tree, snoozing lightly. There were only two other doors leading from this room.

It was about now that he began to feel incredibly lost and unsafe. It was only last week he had been nestled away in his own tidy room, surrounded by his beautiful possessions and his adoring mother. How long ago those few days seemed. How old he felt. It was frightening, though he tried not to dwell on the feelings, to be pulled from a safe reality and thrown into a frenzy of strange faces, unusual accents and a new culture. His eyes fell to the ticking sound of an antique clock nestled between some books on the shelf. He moved closer, watching the thin hands tick gently between the numbers - 7:30pm. Time had seemed to melt away before him this evening, little did he realise just how tired he was. He hardly noticed the arrival of Severus, only drawing his attention to the man after he had almost collided with him.

"I didn't see you." he said.

"Obviously." Severus retorted. He dropped a blanket and a pillow onto the coffee table. "You shall be sleeping on the couch tonight. Tomorrow you rise at 7am to attend breakfast at 8am. Lessons begin at 9am sharp. You shall report to Professor McGonagall first thing after breakfast."

With this final statement, Severus turned and left Nathaniel to his own thoughts. He closed his bedroom door on the boy, turning the lock and shuffling the knob to ensure his privacy. It wasn't that he imagined the boy would simply barge in on him, but he was cautious either way of this intrusion. The events to unfold unnerved him. It had been a long time since he had last felt such juvenile anxiety and it further intimidated his mind. He had just began to settle himself into his evening regime of grading papers and setting assignments, when a thought struck him. He ran a hand through his hair, unravelling the days tangles and licked his dry lips. Which house had Nathaniel been sorted into?

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><p><strong>1<strong> - Thank you to all of you who have taken the time to read, subscribe and review this story.

**2** - Thank you especially to: **Kit46**, **TwilightJac1** and **JaneA0202****.** In reply to **JaneA0202'**s comment, the reason this story is not beneath Hermione/OC is because Severus plays a major role in this story too. It's not just a story focused around the relationship between Nathaniel and Hermione, but is also greatly focused on the growth and development of the relationship between Severus and Hermione and eventually (and hopefully, if Snape agrees) with Ron and Harry. I put it beneath Snape/Hermione, because both are recognisable characters.


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